


Tides of Fortune

by lilac-buttons (Lady_Quill)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, a lot of fluff, also nobody dies, but also some body dysphoria, elim and julian being cute on the sidelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Quill/pseuds/lilac-buttons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iliana Ghemor, former undercover Obsidian Order spy, finds herself on Deep Space Nine. Still looking like a Bajoran, she struggles to adapt to life on the station as neither solely Cardassian or Bajoran, until meeting Tora Ziyal. As she begins to fall for Ziyal, Iliana must figure out how to reconcile her identities and move forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whooooo I finally finished the fic! Thanks so much to dizzydragonfly for being my beta-reader! Your feedback was super helpful :)

Ekani Lora clasped her hands as she walked down the promenade of Deep Space Nine. She hadn’t wanted to go; it was too soon after the end of the occupation, and even now traveling made her nervous. Ekani forced herself to take measured breaths. She was being paranoid, no one would recognize her here. She heard someone at the bar remark that she almost looked like a woman named Major Kira, but Ekani dismissed it as coincidence. Besides, when Ekani’s coworker pointed Kira out to her, the woman looked to be about ten years older, maybe similar enough in features to be a sister or a cousin, but all of her family was dead. Technically, Ekani was too. A few years ago she’d been working in the mines when there was an explosion, and she and a handful of others had escaped. She’d learned later that she’d been declared dead. Ekani didn’t want to be found, so she’d gone undercover, doing small tasks for the resistance. The fear of discovery followed her everywhere; it felt like the punishment that had awaited her that day in the mines was still waiting, even after the occupation was over.

Sometimes she would get flashes of a life not her own; a Cardassian child throwing her a ball, falling asleep in another girl’s bedroom, carving a sculpture with hands that didn’t belong to her. Ekani dismissed them at first, but they were becoming more frequent. She was sure they were nothing but meaningless hallucinations. They would go away in time.

Garak sat at the corner table on the upper level of Quark’s and sulked. Bashir had left an hour ago to flirt with some woman, even Odo was pursuing that Bajoran shopkeeper from upstairs, and he wasn’t about to socialize with Quark just because he was… lonely.

Garak drained his glass of kanar, and was about to head back to his quarters when he noticed a Bajoran girl walk past. That in itself was nothing out of the ordinary… no, what was deeply unsettling was that he recognized the girl’s face. He’d seen a shadow of it, once, when he’d rescued Major Kira from Cardassia, and helped Tekeny Ghemor escape. The Obsidian Order had altered Kira’s appearance and tried to convince her she was Tekeny’s daughter Iliana, a spy who’d suppressed her real memories in order to go deep undercover. It was all a trick, of course, in order to expose Tekeny as a Dissident, and the real Iliana never found. Garak could be wrong, of course, but if he was right… then this Bajoran girl was Iliana. He’d harbored suspicions since Major Kira’s kidnapping that the girl was alive, but seeing as his investigation had turned up little more than rumors and guesses, he’d kept his findings to himself. Now though, with the girl very probably wandering the station… Garak didn’t presume to know where Iliana’s loyalties would lie once her memories returned.

A month later, she began getting her memories back. She wasn’t Ekani Lora – she was Iliana Ghemor, and she was an undercover spy for the Obsidian Order.


	2. Chapter 2

On a whim, Iliana sat next to the Cardassian girl in the temple on Deep Space Nine. Iliana didn’t know if she belonged here; the last time she was at the temple was two years ago, when she was Ekani Lora. Ekani had kept her faith in the prophets, she had memories of learning a religion Iliana wasn’t sure she believed. If the Vedeks knew, would they still accept her here? The other girl looked nervous too, though that made sense, as she was the only one in the temple who was visibly Cardassian. Iliana gave her a shy smile.

The service itself was comforting, though with her memories fully restored, it didn’t provide quite the same reassurance it used to, back when she thought she was a Bajoran. The prayers and meditation helped to clear her mind, to relax her, but these traditions… they were no longer hers. Iliana wasn’t sure what she believed in anymore. The part of her that was still Ekani wanted to believe in the Prophets, in something, because there were some days in the mining camps when that was all she had to hang on to. And to think, she had volunteered to suppress Bajoran terrorists, when it was her fellow Cardassians who were perpetrators of much worse violence.

Iliana blinked as she left the dimly lit temple, taking a second to readjust to the regular station levels. Her aversion to bright sunlight made sense now, given her Cardassian physiology. Cosmetic surgery and implanted memories could only change so much. In the full light, she could see that the other girl was technically half Bajoran, and her presence in the temple made more sense.

“I’m Ziyal,” the girl said awkwardly, reaching out her hand in Federation fashion.

“I’m… Ekani Lora,” Iliana answered. “I’m new to the station.”

“Oh, welcome to Deep Space Nine, then. I’ll be walking around the Promenade if you need help finding anything.” Ziyal smiled, and Iliana found herself blushing. It was strange to be welcomed to a new place so enthusiastically, and Iliana couldn’t help but wonder if the other girl was as lonely as she was.

“Thanks. I’ll, um, see you around,” Iliana said, and walked towards the shops. There was a shirt she’d seen in the window that had caught her eye earlier; perhaps it was still there. She thought of Ziyal’s smile again; there hadn’t been anyone since a classmate back at the Bamarren Institute who made her feel nervous and giddy all at once. She hadn’t been planning to find Ziyal again after services, but if Deep Space Nine was to be her new home, she could use a friend. That is, of course, if the other girl lived here on the station rather than just passing through.

Iliana wandered into Garak’s shop, absentmindedly browsing through the clothing racks while she watched him finish selling an expensive dress to another customer. When they left, Garak turned to her. “How long has it been since you regained your memories?” the tailor asked casually, as if it was nothing. She could lie… but Iliana was so tired of pretending.

“Two years ago,” she answered. Garak’s eyes widened slightly; he hadn’t expected her to be so forthcoming. Then again, he suspected she hadn’t been aware she’d walked into a shop run by a former Obsidian Order operative either. “What gave me away?” Iliana asked suspiciously.

“It won’t be obvious to anyone but another Order operative, if that’s what you’re asking,” the tailor replied. Iliana waited for him to continue. “You project the air of someone playing a character they aren’t committed to.” Iliana sighed in relief; no one else would pick up on that. “You’re sensitive to the bright lights, the cold… and then of course there’s the most obvious.” He smiled at her puzzled look. “Your similarity to the Major, that is. Surely you’ve noticed?”

“I’ve only seen her in passing and I didn’t think much of it. She was never my cover identity.”

“No, but she was used as a trap to lure your father into revealing his political activities against the government, by making him think she was you.”

Iliana bristled at the accusation. “My father is loyal to Cardassia and he would never – ”

“Ah, you misunderstand me. To Cardassia, yes, just not its current government. Which is why I helped the Major, and your father, escape.”

“Is he… still alive, then?”

“Yes. In exile, but well. The Mathanite government has offered him political sanctuary.”

It should have been more of a comfort than it felt like. Sometimes the implanted memories of her childhood on Bajor were as real as the ones with her Cardassian family, though all the same she was glad he was safe.

“Are you going to tell anyone?” she asked. The tailor regarded her a moment.

“No,” he decided. “We’ve had enough trouble around here lately, and as long as you don’t pose a threat there’s no reason to expose your identity.” Whether it was to Cardassia or the station she might pose a threat to was left unsaid. Perhaps the tailor’s loyalties were as complicated as her own, then.

“Thank you. I won’t trouble you any further,” she said politely, raising her palm in typical Cardassian fashion. Garak nodded his head. “Do you… does Ziyal live here?” she blurted out.

“Ziyal? Yes, she does. I’d be happy to make the introduction,” he said smiling.

She couldn’t be sure if it was genuine or not, and she shouldn’t have said anything about it in the first place, so Iliana shook her head. “No, I’ll… maybe later,” she answered, and quickly left the tailor’s shop, blending back into the crowded promenade. It was comforting to disappear into the mass of people, moving at a leisurely pace with nowhere to be. She saw someone wave in her direction, bringing her out of her reverie.

“Hi again,” the girl said, “I was on my way to get lunch at the replimat when I saw you walking past and I thought… maybe you’d like to get lunch with me?” Ziyal smiled timidly, and picked at the loose fabric on her dress.

“Oh.” How was this girl so trusting of someone she’d only just met? Or maybe Iliana was just more suspicious than everyone else. “Sure, that would be nice.”

“Wonderful!” Ziyal exclaimed. “Have you ever tried Vulcan food?  It’s absolutely fascinating…”

They slipped into an easy conversation over lunch, talking about different foods, and music, and Iliana noticed Ziyal light up when they talked about art. But she noticed Ziyal didn’t volunteer anything from before her time on the station. She sensed there was a story there, but Iliana wasn’t going to pry, not before she was ready to share her own history.

\----------------------------------------------

Garak walked with Bashir along the promenade. Bashir noticed Garak looking at Ziyal and a Bajoran woman seated at a corner table, and raised an eyebrow at his lover.

“She came into my shop earlier,” Garak explained. “She asked about Ziyal.  I’m… glad they’ve been introduced.”

“Why Garak, I’m shocked! Here I thought you were so cynical.”

“Why, what have I done?” the tailor asked innocently.

“You want to set them up!” Bashir said, delighted. Garak didn’t answer and Bashir grinned wider. “When did you become such a romantic?"

Garak laced their fingers together and smiled. “I guess we’ll never really know, my dear.”


	3. Chapter 3

Iliana clasped her hands while she waited for Ziyal to meet her on the upper level of the Promenade. It was a nervous habit she’d picked up as Tima Doral, her original Bajoran cover, and despite her efforts to shake the habit it always seemed to come back. She didn’t have anything to be nervous about, Iliana reminded herself; she’d gone several months on the station without discovery, and without any word from the Cardassian tailor. Iliana forced herself to keep her hands at her sides. She couldn’t melt into the shadows like she used to; if she tried to make herself invisible Ziyal would never find her.

“Ekani!” she heard Ziyal call from across the railing. “I’m sorry I’m late…”

“That’s alright,” Iliana reassured her when the girl crossed over to her. “I’m glad you’re here.” To her own surprise, she found that she meant it. They’d been having lunch together nearly every day since Iliana arrived on the station, and she found herself looking forward to each conversation more and more. “Where do you want to start? The art fair is still being set up.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I just like getting here before the crowds take over.” Ziyal led her through the different booths, stopping to talk to a few artists about their individual styles and influences, particularly those made possible through the stabilization of the wormhole.

“I’d like to be one of the artists here next year,” Ziyal confided.

“Right, you told me you were a painter… but I didn’t know you were that serious about your art,” she said excitedly. “What are you working on now?”

“I’ve been working for the last couple of weeks on some studies of a plant that Keiko brought back from her trip to Bajor. It’s been slow progress, but I think I’ve finally made a couple paintings I’m happy with.”

“I haven’t made anything in a while,” Iliana confessed, “but I’d love to see your work sometime.” She’d made a few carvings in the years after the occupation, had wondered why her hands seemed to work on their own, as if guided by muscle memory. It was years since she’d made the bone carving for her father’s promotion; now it seemed so far away it was hardly worth noting.

Ziyal spotted someone and started waving. “Jake, over here!” she called. “This is Jake Sisko, he’s a writer,” she said. “Jake, I’d like you to meet Ekani.  Actually… Jake and I have a small group going, just a couple of us who get together to practice whatever art we’re working on… would you want to join us?”

“Oh… sure, I guess.” She hadn’t made art in so long; she would sketch things when she was in the resistance, and the hobby was even part of her original cover story, but did that even count as practice?

“Great! And don’t worry about what you make, we’ve got a couple beginners too,” Ziyal said. She grabbed Iliana’s hand to lead her away towards more of the artist booths. “See you later, Jake! I have to take Ekani to see the rest of the art fair before it closes!”

“Sure, I’ll see you later!” he said. “Just remember to take a break for lunch!”

As Iliana and Ziyal continued their walk around the Promenade, Iliana realized it had been a while since she’d been able to laugh so freely. She enjoyed the feeling, and Ziyal’s company. They were about to break for food when Iliana realized there was one more artist they’d almost skipped. Her jovial mood disappeared when she saw the paintings of the mining camps. They’d come across artwork influenced by the Occupation, of course, but there was something about the light… she couldn’t dismiss her memories as merely implanted ones. They’d happened after the explosion, after the Order had forgotten about her and hadn’t been able to protect her from the cruelty the Occupation brought out in her fellow Cardassians.

“Ekani?” Iliana turned her head when she realized Ziyal was talking to her. “Ekani, are you alright?”

“Of course, I’m fine,” she said briskly. She just wanted to forget about all of it, as if it’d never happened, as if it had been someone else. Her hands started shaking and she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop any of it, and she clasped her hands tightly as if that would do any good…

“Ekani,” Ziyal said gently. How many times had she been calling? “Ekani, we’re going to sit in the replimat, and we’re going to have some tea. Alright?” Iliana nodded, and allowed herself to be led over to a table over by the corner.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Ekani. We all… had different experiences, during the Occupation.”

“Ziyal, I’d like… I want to tell you about my time during the Occupation but…” Iliana could barely keep hold of the teacup, let alone tell this girl about her time in the mining camps, yet she wanted to all the same.

“Ekani, you don’t have to share anything with me until you’re ready,” Ziyal said, taking Iliana’s hand.

“I want to be ready,” she said.

“No, I care for you, and that’s not conditional on knowing about your time during the Occupation.” Iliana blushed and looked away. “Actually… would you like to come to the habitat ring and see some of my art? Might be nice to get away from the crowds here on the Promenade.” Iliana’s first thought was to object, but she noticed Ziyal looking nervously at the crowds of people around them, and wondered if the suggestion maybe wasn’t just for her own benefit.

They walked in comfortable silence up to Ziyal’s quarters, where she opened a portfolio lying on the side table.

“Is all of this yours?” Iliana asked in awe.

“Yes. I’ve listened to some videos on color theory and design, but I’m hoping to go to this art institute on Bajor and continue my studies.” The paintings were simple, capturing the light and form of the various flora with just a handful of colors. Iliana could see where Ziyal had gone from simply drawing what she saw to more purposeful design choices. Iliana picked up the second painting from the top, of a bright purple flower that almost seemed to bloom from the page.

“These are… really wonderful, Ziyal,” she said. “I’m so glad you showed me.”

Ziyal smiled shyly and moved closer. “I’m glad. I mean, you don’t have to like them. But I was really hoping you would…”

They were so close, Iliana could kiss her. She would kiss her. Just as Ziyal closed her eyes, their lips barely touching, the door chimed and they sprang apart.

“Ziyal? I’m home!” a Cardassian man called from the doorway.

“Father!” Ziyal said, blushing. “I was just showing Ekani some of my paintings.”

“Yes, of course,” her father nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ekani. I’m Dukat,” he introduced himself. “I’m glad you’ve made a new friend, Ziyal,” he said, but Iliana thought she sensed a slight disapproval. “Have you shown these paintings to Major Kira as well?”

“Not yet, but I will,” Ziyal replied.

“Good, very good. I can certainly see you’ve improved.”

Iliana simultaneously felt like she was intruding, and like she needed to protect Ziyal. Before she could take action on either thought, Dukat excused himself for dinner plans. After he left, Ziyal stood protectively over her paintings. “So… that’s my father. He’s… what I have left of my family.” Iliana wanted to put an arm around Ziyal for comfort, but she wasn’t sure if the other girl would mind, especially since it seemed she was about to share something personal. “I was very sheltered while my mother and I were on Bajor. My father was always nice to us; I didn’t understand why the other Bajorans gave us dirty looks, why they called my mother a collaborator… among other things. And, I know he hasn’t always been a good person. But he’s still my father. I hope you can understand that.”

Iliana put a hand over Ziyal’s. “I think so. And… he might be the only family you have, but he’s not the only one you can count on.”

Ziyal smiled, and pulled Iliana unexpectedly into a hug. “Thank you, Ekani,” she whispered.

\----------------------------------------------

Bashir joined the other senior officers at Quark’s for drinks towards the end of the arts festival. “Have you met Ziyal’s new friend?” Bashir asked Kira.

“The one who supposedly looks so much like me?” Kira replied. “No, I’ve met enough doubles to last me a while.”

“Oh come on,” Bashir teased, “what’s one more?”

“First the mirror universe, then Iliana… I think I’ll pass on a third.”

“Aw, but just think – third time’s a charm!”

“You and your idiotic terran phrases,” Kira said, shaking her head.

“You know,” Quark leered, “she does look an awful lot like you, Major. Almost like cousins… no, sisters. And I could set you two ‘sisters’ up with just the right holosuite program, at a significant discount…”

Kira glared at the bartender. “Shut up and finish making my drink, Quark.”

“Fine, fine. But it might interest you to know she’s been hanging around Ziyal quite a lot, recently.”

Kira grabbed her drink from Quark’s hands. “Well, it’s good to know she’s making friends.” She talked with Bashir for a bit, before finding Odo at a table across the room.

“What’s the matter?” Odo asked as Kira sat down across from him.

“I just got a message from Ziyal… she wants me to have dinner with her and Dukat.”

“That does sound… uncomfortable.”

“She wants to bring along her friend, too.”

“Isn’t that good? That she’s making friends? Plus, a fourth person could add another buffer between you and Dukat.”

“Maybe… but what if Ekani isn’t just a friend? I don’t really know how Cardassians feel about same-gender relationships…”

“What makes you think she and Ekani are more than just friends?”

“What, you haven’t seen it? The way they act around each other, the way they touch each other. I mean, what if this is supposed to be a ‘meet the parents’ kind of thing and Dukat explodes? Every time I’m with the two of them it feels like Ziyal has to choose between me and her father, and somehow I always ends up feeling like it’s my fault.”

“Major, Gul Dukat wanted to shoot his daughter. Then he wanted to bring her back to Cardassia even though she didn’t want to go. Ziyal looks up to you, yes, but you can hardly be blamed for the opinions of her father.”

“I know, I just… wish things were different.”


	4. Chapter 4

Iliana stopped before ringing the door when she heard Ziyal arguing with Dukat. They’d only just had dinner a few nights before – her, Major Kira, Dukat, and Ziyal. It had gone… awkwardly, to say the least, but bore no resemblance to the way the two of them were snapping at each other in their quarters.

“I’m not a child, you can’t tell me who I can and can’t associate with,” she heard Ziyal say.

“It’s my prerogative to keep you safe. And to be seen regularly with a known Obsidian Order operative…” Iliana panicked for a second; Dukat couldn’t possibly know about her, could he? If Garak had betrayed her… surely he’d go to the Captain, rather than Dukat?

“Garak is only a former operative,” Ziyal said. Iliana almost felt guilty at her relief. As much as she didn’t want anyone finding out about her past just yet, she couldn’t just stand there and let Dukat tell Ziyal who she could or could not be friends with.

“I just think it would be simpler for you to return to Cardassia where you could make some different, more suitable, friends… maybe another Cardassian boy your age…”

“I’ve already told you, I’m not going back to Cardassia. I’m staying on the station.”

“Ziyal, please try to listen to me.”

“I am. But all I hear is how convinced you are that I can’t make responsible decisions on my own. As much as I want your approval, I’ve been on my own a while. I’m not naïve and I’m not a child. Just because we don’t agree doesn’t mean I haven’t thought this through.”

Iliana had listened enough, and she pressed the door chime.

“Enter,” Dukat snapped.

“Be right there, Ekani,” she heard Ziyal say.

Once they were out of earshot Iliana asked, “Do you still want to go out for dinner?”

Ziyal took her hand. “Yes, I do want to go.”

They walked in a comfortable silence along the promenade. “Have you ever thought about getting your own quarters?”

“I mean… I never thought I needed to,” Ziyal answered sullenly.

“You don’t have to right away,” Iliana said. “Just… it’s an option.”

“Hi Ziyal! Hi Ekani,” Jake said, finding them at the replimat. “I was looking for writing workshops on Bajor, but instead I found this…” he held out his pad so both women could see. “It’s a one-week pottery workshop. Come on, what do you say? It’ll be fun!”

“Between this, and last night’s dinner… maybe a vacation could be fun. What do you think, Ekani?”

“Sure,” Iliana said. It was a terrible idea, with her three different identities, and keeping secrets, but she wanted the chance to have some time alone with Ziyal. “That sounds wonderful.”

\----------------------------------------------

Iliana stepped off the transport and stretched her arms in the sun. She wanted to stay in its warmth a little longer, but Ziyal and Jake dragged her off to see their quarters at the art center. Ziyal was sharing a room with Iliana, and Jake ran to meet his assigned roommate. The trip was a whirlwind of art classes, nature walks, experimenting with different art materials… and a brief kiss, before she and Ziyal were interrupted by Jake reminding them it was time for dinner. The thought of it still made her tingle; and every time Ziyal smiled at her she was reminded of the spark of excitement she’d felt.

And in the midst of all that, she’d asked Ziyal to call her Lora. It was as close as she was going to get to being called by her given name, but as much as she wanted to enjoy it, every time Ziyal used the name Lora, it felt wrong.

“I’m really glad you convinced me to come here with you, Lora,” Ziyal told her, once they were back in their shared quarters. “I did need a break from the station. And… I liked being able to spend so much time with you.” Ziyal took her hand, gently stroking along the tips of her fingers. It was a simple gesture, but to Iliana, it felt very intimate. “I’d… I’d like to kiss you again, Lora. Can I?”

Iliana pulled back her hand. She wasn’t Ekani Lora, and she never would be. This was all wrong, and she couldn’t pretend for Ziyal anymore.

Ziyal started backtracking. “I’m sorry, if I’ve misread, I don’t want to…”

“It’s not that,” Iliana blurted. “I do. Want to kiss you, I mean. I like you a lot. But…” she took a deep breath, “I’m not Ekani Lora.”

Iliana stared at her in confusion. “What do you mean? What happened to her? Is she alright? Did you do something to her?”

“No, I mean yes, I… I mean when I introduced myself to you, a while ago. Ekani Lora is a name I made up.”

Ziyal’s relief was visible. “Oh. Sorry. So… I assume this has something to do with your time during the Occupation?”

“Yes. And… I want you to know, because… I trust you. And I’d rather you know before we jump into anything. Romantic, I mean.”

“Alright.”

“I’m… my real name is Iliana. Iliana Ghemor.”

“Oh.” Ziyal cocked her head and frowned. “Wait, Ghemor… isn’t that… oh!” her eyes got wide and she put a hand to her mouth. “Kira told me about your father! And the time the Obsidian Order tried to make her think she was you! Does your father know? Are you safe here?”

“I… you’re the first person I’ve told, other than Garak, since getting my memories back.”

“Oh.” Ziyal pouted at the mention of Garak, and Iliana suspected she was jealous that the tailor knew Iliana’s identity before she did.

“Do you… I know we have a lot more to talk about, but does that change things? With us?”

“No, why would it?”

“I… was expecting it to.”

“It’ll take me some time to get used to calling you Iliana and not Lora, and it sounds like there’s still a lot we need to talk about, but… I like you a lot too.” Ziyal leaned towards her, their lips almost touching. “Is this… okay?”

“Yes,” Iliana whispered, and closed the distance between them to kiss her. “Prophets, yes.”

\----------------------------------------------

Iliana stepped into Captain Sisko’s office early in the morning after they got back from Bajor. “Captain Sisko, thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course,” the captain answered. “Ekani, right? My son tells me you’ve given him some wonderful reading recommendations.”

“Yes, Captain,” Iliana replied formally.

“Well. What can I do for you?” Sisko asked casually, presumably to put Iliana at ease. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Iliana contemplated sitting, but decided against it.

“I’m… I’ve come to turn myself in.”

“For what?” he laughed.

“For working as an undercover agent of the Obsidian Order during the occupation.” She’d talked it over with Ziyal the last night of their trip to Bajor; she couldn’t keep living as Ekani Lora in public and Iliana Ghemor in private, even if Ziyal knew.

“I see,” the captain frowned. “That’s a serious charge.”

“My father can attest to this,” Iliana said.

“And who is your father?”

“Tekeny Ghemor.”

“Ghemor… you’re Iliana, then.”

“Yes, Captain. I am.”

\----------------------------------------------

Iliana paced back and forth in the holding cell while she waited for Captain Sisko to return with the Bajoran government’s verdict. She’d heard through Major Kira that some of Shakar’s advisors wanted to see the death penalty for her, but Ziyal had quietly whispered that she’d put together an escape plan if that came to pass.

She wasn’t used to this kind of uncertainty. On Cardassia, you were convicted if you were guilty and it suited the best outcome for the state. The Cardassian justice system was predictable, and thorough. If you were interrogated correctly you wouldn’t arrest an innocent person; the real beauty lay in in the trial itself. What good would that be if innocent people got arrested all the time? But this… she knew she was guilty, but she didn’t know which outcome would best serve the Bajoran government. She hated waiting on people she didn’t trust to negotiate an outcome whose purpose would be marred simply by the conflicting interests. Justice was supposed to be methodical in its pursuit, cathartic in its punishment, not this… charade. This wasn’t justice, it was politics. But she was in the hands of the Bajoran government now. If only they would figure out her punishment, so she could start to move on. Iliana wasn’t sure if she’d be able to pursue something with Ziyal after this process was all sorted out, but this was her best chance.

In the end, it took two more days of indecision before Kira finally came to Security to meet her, Doctor Bashir in tow.

“You’ve decided, then?” Iliana asked.

“Yes,” Kira confirmed. “You’re being put on probation. Your communications will be heavily monitored, and if anything goes amiss, station personnel are authorized to ban you from Federation and Bajoran territory.”

“That’s… all?” she asked incredulously.

Kira sighed, and looked at Bashir. “Well… not quite,” she said. The Obsidian Order denied any connection with you, so…” Kira gestured for Bashir to take over.

“If the Order doesn’t recognize you as an operative, they can’t perform the surgery that would reverse both the physical transformation and the effects of the implanted memories. We’ll have to do that here in the station – the physical part, at least. I’m still trying to get in touch with someone who can facilitate the psychological part.”

“How soon could you do the surgery?”

“Any time after you’re released this afternoon, but I’d recommend waiting…”

“I’d like to schedule it for this afternoon, if that’s possible.” She’d looked like a Bajoran long enough; this form wasn’t hers to keep. The Bajoran government might not have punished her, but it wasn’t right holding on to this body, and she needed to be rid of her false appearance as soon as possible.

“Iliana, are you sure you want to do that so soon? I was hoping to bring one of our Vulcan counselors to the station, to talk with you about mind-melding to reconcile your memories, before going ahead with the surgery.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “This was never the body I was supposed to have.” After all, what other option did she have? Keep living a lie? Wait for the Obsidian Order to reclaim her? No, Iliana decided, she needed to pursue this, and as soon as the doctor could accommodate her.

“Alright. But it’s only a few days before the Gratitude Festival. Are you sure you want to go through such a dramatic change before so many people come aboard the station?”

“I’m sure, Doctor. I’ve waited too long as it is.”


	5. Chapter 5

Iliana stared at the blank scroll in front of her. There were so many things she wanted to burn away… but did she even have a right to? She felt uncomfortable in her original Cardassian body, after so many years living as a Bajoran, with half her memories of a Bajoran childhood with a Bajoran body. She knew this Cardassian skin was hers, but nothing felt right, and even as she looked down at the hand holding the pen, it was like seeing a limb that belonged to someone else.

“Iliana?” her door chimed, and she heard Ziyal on the other side. “Are you in there?”

She quickly rolled up the scroll and stuffed it under a throw blanket. “Enter.”

Ziyal gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Were you trying to write a renewal scroll?”

“What?”

“You don’t usually have an ink pen, and you mostly use charcoal when you draw.”

“Oh.” She was getting sloppy with so much time away from the Order. She would have to see about fixing that.

“I already wrote mine – do you want to come with me later, to throw it in the fire?”

Iliana wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t, not in this body. “Thank you, but…”

“Too many people?” Ziyal asked, and Iliana nodded. It was part of it, and she didn’t want to have yet another conversation about things taking time, or that it didn’t matter if she got strange looks. “That’s alright. I guess I should go – I told Jake I’d meet him at Quark’s. I’ll see you later.” She gave Iliana a quick kiss and left.

Maybe it was better she was spending time with Jake, Iliana thought. After all, Jake was more of an artist than she ever was, and Ziyal wouldn’t have to put up with Iliana being antisocial, wouldn’t have to be embarrassed about Jake in front of other Bajorans.

With Ziyal gone, the room suddenly seemed too quiet. Her skin felt too leather, her hair too oily, everything was all wrong. It would take a while, Bashir had said, to adjust to her new body, but it just felt so _wrong_.

Sisko had made her make an appointment to see a counselor, but what would they know about being returned to a body that by all rights should have made her feel relief but now only made her feel like she needed to pull off her skin? She could call counseling now… even with the festivities she knew there would be someone on staff. But she was being overdramatic, she would get over this in a few days. She didn’t need someone telling her meaningless platitudes that she would feel better later, that if she waited it out the discomfort would go away, that she shouldn’t worry. She’d grown up with this body, come of age in this skin. She didn’t have the right to look like a Bajoran any more than she did during the Occupation. The implanted memories left a bitter taste; celebrating the Gratitude Festival in secret with her Bajoran family was now little more than fantasy. And to think, those years in the refugee camp, when she’d burned her troubles on scraps of paper… what gave her the right to celebrate now? Now that it was no longer her lace? Of course Ziyal wasn’t troubled by it, she’d grown up with a Bajoran mother. But as Iliana was reminded of every time she looked in the mirror now, she was just Cardassian, through and through.

\----------------------------------------------

Bashir sighed and flopped down on the couch.

“Home so soon?” Garak called from the bedroom. “I thought you would be out enjoying the festivities.”

“I will in a bit, but… Ziyal called. She’s worried about Iliana. Apparently she’s barely left her room since the surgery a few days ago.”

“That is to be expected. After all, Iliana looks like a Cardassian now, and this is a Bajoran holiday.”

“I know, and I warned her about that when we scheduled the surgery. I just don’t want to leave her with any kind of body dysphoria if that’s what she’s experiencing, while everyone else is celebrating.”

“As any friend would,” Garak reassured him. “Unfortunately neither you nor I are equipped to have the sort of conversation Iliana needs, even if this proves to be temporary. Just… be careful not to patronize her if you do decide to visit her.” Garak held up a hand before Bashir could interject. “I know you very well, my dear. And while you are brilliant, espionage and medical health are not among your expertise.”

Bashir leaned his forehead against Garak’s. “Alright, I’ll argue with you later about that.” He grabbed his com badge and called, “Love you!” as he ran out the door. Damn, Bashir thought… he hadn’t actually meant to say that.

\----------------------------------------------

Iliana still hadn’t taken the scroll out from its hiding place when Bashir chimed her door. “Enter,” she said, thinking it was probably Ziyal again. “Oh, Doctor Bashir, I didn’t realize you’d be dropping by.”

“In my experience with former Obsidian Order operatives, they don’t like going to the doctor,” he said teasingly. “So I thought I’d stop by. Your circumstances are fairly unique, and if you hadn’t set up an appointment with a counselor I wanted to recommend one.”

“Why does everyone think a counselor is going to fix everything?” she snapped. “This is just how I’m supposed to look; talking about it isn’t going to change anything. I’m not an invalid.”

“Look… I get the sense that mental health isn’t really something people on Cardassia talk about a lot. But actually… I meant that you should talk to someone who _has_ gone through something similar. Counselor Fia… well, I recommended Odo talk to them after being stuck in a humanoid body.”

“I thought Odo was a changeling?”

“He is but… it’s a long story. Anyway, I also wanted you to know that I can always reverse some, or all, of the surgery. Just… keep that in mind. Things like gender reassignment isn’t all that uncommon a procedure, along with other cosmetic surgeries. However you feel like you ought to look, you can choose whatever you’d actually like.”

“Thank you… I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re still invited to the party back at my place. Dax and Garak are helping me set up in a few hours.”

Iliana stared in the mirror after the doctor left. Could she really be… whatever combination of Cardassian and Bajoran she wanted? Or would she just look like a freak?

\----------------------------------------------

Ziyal curled up next to Iliana on her couch after he party, stroking her hair. She hadn’t gone to Bashir’s party, but Ziyal and Jake had visited her anyway, to keep her company. Jake was back at Bashir’s, but Ziyal for some reason had decided to stay. “What are you thinking about?” Ziyal asked, and Iliana sighed. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.”

Iliana sighed. “I was... thinking about something Doctor Bashir mentioned. About having parts of the surgery reversed, if I wanted.” She sat up and turned to Ziyal. “Do you think I’d be making a mistake? Deciding too soon, if I did that?” There were so many questions she wasn’t asking. Would she be betraying her Cardassian heritage? Would she be a fraud? Was she a coward?

But Ziyal only leaned against Iliana’s shoulder. “I want you to do what feels right, and it sounds like you can always make a different decision later.”

“I just… I don’t know what body I want to see when I look in the mirror. Nothing seems right.”

“So you’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, whatever you decide.”

“I… thank you. Would you…” Iliana trailed off. “Would you mind staying? Just to keep me company? I’ve got an extra pillow for the couch, if you’d like.”

“Of course,” Ziyal said. It wasn’t one of their most romantic nights, Iliana thought, setting up the couch with extra pillows and blankets, but it was comforting, and one of the few things over the last few days that seemed normal.


	6. Chapter 6

Iliana was feeling better than she had in days, months even. It wasn’t perfect; sometimes she still got flashbacks of the mining camps, or memories she knew weren’t hers, but working with a Vulcan counselor who was able to help her reconcile the implanted memories with her real ones made more of a difference than she’d initially thought it would. Counselor Fia had offered to erase the implanted memories completely, but Iliana couldn’t do that. There was a part of her that was Tima Doral, and another that belonged to Ekani Lora. Those memories had impacted her choices, her relationships… she couldn’t bring herself to let that be erased, but her mind was finally starting to heal. The discomfort she’d initially felt after the surgery had begun to fade as well; she’d needed the time to sort through her memories, but Iliana was beginning to feel grounded again.

She’d taken Ziyal to the holosuites, and they were back in Iliana’s quarters. Talking had turned to kissing, but Ziyal was being so gentle, hardly putting any pressure into her kiss. Iliana broke their kiss and leaned back against the couch nervously. “Ziyal… is there a reason why… I mean, we haven’t done more than kiss and… things, have you not wanted to…”

“I thought with your Cardassian body, and everything you’ve been going through… you’d tell me when you were ready?” Ziyal asked.

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“Why? Did you think I didn’t want you?”

“Maybe?” Iliana said shyly.

“No, oh Iliana, no. I love you!”

Iliana was startled. “You… love me?”

“Yes? I thought that was obvious. You don’t have to… I mean if it’s too soon…”

“I love you too, Ziyal,” Iliana said. And she meant it; after three different identities, and two planets, and a war that still wasn’t quite over, it was finally starting to feel like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Would love to hear any comments, or feedback <3


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